Stalker
by SanityWithoutMind
Summary: Kurt finds himself the subject of highly unwanted attention.


**Disclaimer:** I own nothing

**Spoilers:** Through 2x09, deviates from canon after that.

**A/N:** Written as a fill for a prompt on the Glee Angst Meme on LJ. As such, expect severe angst.

* * *

The first time he sees him is during his English class.

The teacher was incredibly uninteresting that day as he droned on in his nasal voice about figures of speech and its uses in poetry. Beside him Brett was smelling particularly homeless, and Kurt had to scoot his chair further towards the slightly cracked window to escape the stench. He truly resented having to sit next to the boy at all, what with his appalling fashion sense and lack of hygiene, but the other students still treated him like the scum of the earth. Thus, he sat next to the literal scum of the earth.

He sighed, dreaming of the day he could finally get out of this rat hole of a town. One day he'd leave Ohio, and all of this would just be part of the past. It'll make an interesting E! True Hollywood Story for when he's famous, that's for sure. Gazing out of the open window overlooking the crumbling outer structure of the auxiliary gym, that's when Kurt first saw him.

A tall man in a black suit and a tie was standing just outside the double doors. He was wearing a balaclava and fedora that obscured his face, and was too far away to get a decent look at. Still, Kurt couldn't fight the creeping sensation that the mysterious figure was looking directly at him. He could feel the heated glare locked with his own confused gaze. It was brief, barely even a few seconds had passed since he had first seen the man before the Boys P.E. class ran across the field. When the last of the stragglers passed, the man was gone.

Weeks passed without another sighting of the man in black and Kurt didn't think twice of it. Not until he was at the grocery store with Finn and Carole trying to stock up on heart healthy food for his dad.

He was scolding Finn for the junk food he kept trying to slip into the cart when he saw him. ("It's not like it's for Burt or anything!" "You lead by example, Finn.") Just as he was once again placing the Mesquite barbecue potato chips back on the shelf, he caught the figure out of the corner of his eye. At first he thought it was his imagination playing tricks on him, but at the end of the aisle behind the rack of pork grinds was the same man from several weeks ago.

He turned around to face Finn, who was currently trying to sneak a box of cereal with a cartoon turtle on the front into the shopping cart, and spoke in a hushed voice. "Finn, do you see that man at the end of the aisle?"

"Wha-" He whipped around and started looking over Kurt's shoulder. Really could he get anymore obvious?

"Finn, stop that. You'll draw his attention." He said sounding exasperated.

"Oh, sorry." He said in the worst stage whisper he'd ever heard in his life. "But yeah, you mean that creepy old guy who keeps eyeing you?"

"What?" His voice rose to an undignified pitch as he spun on the spot.

The dark figure was gone, instead there was only and old man in worn, faded jeans and a scraggly beard who winked at him when he turned around. Kurt visibly paled and grabbed Finn's arm in a mad dash to get them out of there. Clearly the stress of his father's illness and the sleepless nights he's been getting have been taking a toll on him.

The third time Kurt sees him he's walking out to his car. He barely makes it out the doors before he's shoved backwards into the wall. Pain courses through his shoulder and down his body as his head spins trying to grab hold of his surroundings. When he looks up he sees Karofsky's sneering face.

"Later, faggot."

Karofsky vanishes behind the door, probably towards football practice or scoping out the next social misfit to torment. Kurt finally peels himself away from the wall when he spots him. The man is leaning against his car - his baby. His eyes go wide and he opens his mouth to yell at him when the door burst open again. His head snaps towards the sound, not wanting to be caught off guard again, but it's only Mercedes.

"Hey baby, sorry I'm late, you ready to go?"

It took him longer than he'd admit to remember that he had made plans with Mercedes to go to the movies. They were going to watch that awful new low budget romantic comedy and mock it for its cliche plot and sub-par acting. But first he needed to get that creepy man away from his baby. Only, when he turned to look, the man was gone.

"Kurt, are you alright, you look pale?"

Deep breath. Kurt reigned in his emotions and once again placed the indifferent mask on his face. He smiled down at is best friend and linked arms with her. "Of course. Let's go."

As the weeks passed, he continued to see the man, more and more frequently. Sitting in a tree outside his Spanish class. Waiting by his car after glee rehearsal. Standing on the corner when he was at a stop light. It was becoming so frequent Kurt was starting to see the figure when he closed his eyes. Tall and thin, in a perfect black suit, no matter where he saw him. Hat sitting atop his head and faceless, always faceless because of that damned balaclava. He couldn't even try to identify his stalker.

He had tried to get someone else to see him, but the man always vanished whenever he got the chance. At first he thought it was some sort of prank designed to make him go crazy, but he already knew none of the jocks were bright enough to pull it off. He started to think maybe it was Vocal Adrenaline, but they would most likely go after Rachel or Finn. The stars, not the boy who swayed mindlessly in the background.

It was unnerving him. He wasn't sure why, but he felt like the figure was getting closer. He seemed more dangerous, more intimidating than before. He could never see his face, but he knew when the man was staring at him, and it gave him goose bumps. It was like something unnatural was being poured into his system. It weighed heavy in his stomach and he couldn't even name it.

Karofsky kissed him. That had been the worst night. His father was on a date with Carole, and he was home alone.

Kurt was attempting to wash the dishes, but he couldn't stop himself from shaking. He could still feel those meaty hands wrapped around his face and no matter how many times he brushed his teeth he cold still taste it on him. He hated it, he hated not being in control and he hated this feeling. He slammed the tap shut, resigning to finish the dishes later and went to work shutting everything off for the night.

He was closing the back window when he saw him. The man wasn't across the street, or in a tree, or leaning against the fence like usual. He was standing directly behind the window. All of the man's features were covered in fabric and darkness, and he truly did look intimidatingly faceless. For a moment, he was simply frozen in terror, with nothing but a thin sheet of glass separating him from his stalker. Then the man smiled at him, he couldn't see it but he could feel it. He could feel the ice running through his veins and the sweat that was breaking out over his back, but that smile, it was otherworldly. It was enough to break him out of his terror and run.

He ran into the kitchen where he left his phone and grasped for it. It fumbled in his hands for a moment before he was able to get a good grip on it. Scrambling to unlock his phone he called whoever his frantic fingers managed to contact first.

_Ring._

Why was this taking so long?

_Ring._

Was that thing still out there?

_Rin-_

"Hello? Kurt, what's up? Is everything okay?"

"Bl-Blaine."

He was stuttering. He never stuttered. He was composed, crisp, clear and sharp. Not this frightened little boy he was acting like. He drew himself to full height and stalked over to the window. Blaine was frantic in his ear, clearly worried, but he needed to make sure. He peeked behind the blinds, but the man was gone.

He hadn't realized he had outwardly sighed in relief until Blaine was practically yelling in his ear. "Kurt, is someone there? Talk to me."

"Sorry, I'm just a little out of sorts at the moment." He said, his voice returning to normal, but still a hint of shakiness underneath the surface.

"Well, tell me about it. Maybe I can help." Came Blaine's concerned voice.

Kurt couldn't help the smile that was breaking across his face. Still, he didn't want to tell Blaine about the man, not when he was so unsure about it himself. Instead he went with the other thing that had him itching to crawl out of his own skin.

"Karofsky kissed me."

That night he and Blaine talked. Then next day they texted. That weekend they hung out. His life was suddenly infused with Blaine and he couldn't get enough of it. For the first time in a long time he had hope, and he finally felt like happiness was attainable. He wasn't quite there yet, but he was well on his way. He could take on whatever was coming his way as long as he had courage, and he had plenty with Blaine by his side.

And then.

"_If you tell anyone, I'll kill you."_

He heard those words ringing around his head whenever he didn't have a spare thought to bury them with. Every moment he felt terrified. Every locker slam was a threat, every corner was a risk. He couldn't even stomach his food anymore without remembering the leering gaze Karofsky had given him. It made him feel sick and pathetic to be this afraid of living.

The nights were worse. If he wasn't having nightmares of closeted jocks snapping him in half or his father having another heart attack, it was of the stalker. He hadn't seen him since that night outside his window. It was almost as if Blaine had come in on his white horse and chased the demon away, but now Kurt was seeing him every time he closed his eyes. He would wake up at night in a cold sweat, limbs tangled in his sheets.

This was getting out of hand.

He was so stressed out with school, bullying, his father, the wedding, everything. He was losing control and he could feel it. Blaine was still texting him, giving him courage to make it through everyday. He had to stay strong, keep it together for his father, for his future step mom and step brother. He could do that. He really could.

Then things really blew up in his face. One moment he was attempting to teach his father and Finn how to dance, the next his dad was pinning Karofsky to the wall. He was so terrified, the older man couldn't handle this kind of stress. This was exactly the type of thing he was working so hard to avoid.

For his father. His family. His only family.

It was awful and it was terrifying, but in the end it would be better, and it would be okay. And slowly, they did. Karofsky was gone, Finn was being, well, overly Finn like, and the wedding was well under way. He was kept so busy with glee and planning that he barely had time to sleep much less think. Things were getting better this way, they truly were.

The wedding had been perfect. It had been more than perfect it had been absolutely amazing and exceeded even his wildest expectations. His dad was happy, his family had doubled in size, and he finally felt like he had a brother. It was weird, but in a good way. No, in a brilliant and extraordinary way.

They were all packed into his Navigator. The parents were in the backseat being drunk newlyweds while Finn, who was riding shotgun, was pretending not to notice. Kurt had to strongly fight the urge to roll his eyes at Finn's badly concealed faces at their parents' shenanigans as he pulled up into the driveway. He took the keys out of the ignition as Finn helped the parental units out of the car. Everyone was staying at their house for the night, and after the song, Kurt was pleased to know that his new step-brother would be okay with sharing a room with him, even if only for an evening.

He stepped out of the car, and standing across the lawn was the faceless figure of his nightmares. Kurt audibly gasped and found himself frozen where he stood. His eyes widened as the figure took a step towards him. Oh Gucci, he swore, he may not be able to see it, but he could feel the figure smiling sickly at him again. It was like the wind had been knocked out of him.

A soft pressure nudged his shoulder and he practically jumped several feet into the air.

"Whoa, dude, are you okay?"

Kurt blinked a few times, trying to remember where he was and why Finn was looking at him with a look of deep concern. He glanced over the lawn, but again, the figure was gone. He visibly frowned as his brows furrowed together. Then he remembered the wrinkles that would cause and immediately stopped. He recomposed himself and turned to look at Finn.

"I'm fine. Now let's get our parents into the house before they fornicate on the front lawn."

"Um, ew." Finn said visibly shuddering before complying to the order.

Kurt had tossed and turned that night, his dreams more vivid and terror filled than usual. He hadn't seen the figure in weeks and now this happened. It was stress, that was all. It always got worse when the bullying was especially bad. At least, that was what he fed himself to sleep at night because he knew that there was no reason for the figure to show up again on the night of his parent's wedding. It had been one of the happiest nights of his life, there was no reason for it. It didn't make logical sense, there was nothing to trigger it.

Until he got the news that Karofsky would be coming back. Maybe his subconscious was psychic, because nothing had his blood running cold quicker than the thought of the bully he had gotten expelled returning to McKinley.

It all happened so fast after that. One moment he was bidding farewell to New Directions, the only people apart from his parents that he knew really cared about him, the next, he was smoothing the lapel on his new Dalton blazer.

"You ready, New Kid?" Blaine asked after walking him to his first class of the day.

Kurt flashed him a nervous smile and received a calming one in return.

"I believe I am. Keep your fingers crossed." The other boy held up his crossed fingers to his face. Kurt couldn't help the way his stomach fluttered.

Dalton wasn't perfect. That had become very clear to Kurt after his first Warbler's meeting. It wasn't bad, it was just different. Something he'd have to grow use to, like the harder classes and stricter teachers. It was safe, though, and people here were friendly. It was refreshing after years of dumpster diving and slushie facials.

It was midterms, and Kurt was working himself to the bone trying to pass all of his classes. That was the thing about transferring mid-semester, he had to play catch up. With Dalton's heavy course load, that was easier said then done. And that was how Kurt found himself sitting in the library at eight in the evening trying to cram postulates and theorems into his cranium. His head slumped in his hand as he struggled to keep himself awake.

_...a straight line falling on two straight lines make the interior angles on the same side less than two right angles, the two straight lines..._

A slight pressure on his shoulder shook him out of his revere. He jolted upright in his chair before snapping his head at whatever had woken him up.

"Sorry to startle you, darling, but the library is closing." It was just the librarian. He nodded weakly and gathered up his belongings to leave.

He left the building and planned to cut across the courtyard to get to his dormitory like he so often did when a silhouette caught his eye. He wouldn't have thought twice of it, if it hadn't been one he was already so familiar with. His eyes widened in panic as the shadow moved against the wall. He couldn't do this, not again. Like the coward he was he ran back inside, determined to find another way to his dormitory. Any way, he didn't care as long as he didn't have to face-

"Kurt?" A hand caught him around his upper arm to slow him down. "Is everything okay?

Kurt's eyes followed the hand on his arm to concerned, but gorgeous, brown eyes. "I'm fine. Just heading back to my dorm."

"I'm heading back to the dorms myself, mind if I walk with you?" He asked before showing off his charming smile. Really, that was just unfair. Kurt was weak, there was no way he could resist saying no to that.

"Not at all." He didn't think he could ever say no to Blaine.

By the next morning Kurt was sure the whole debacle outside the library had been nothing more than the stress catching up to him. A nice chat with Blaine where the other boy may or may not have affectionately hugged him goodnight was all it took to get Kurt's mood back into its proper place. So to say that Kurt was shocked when his stalker showed up in his Advanced French class would be the understatement of the century.

He gaped like a fish as his eyes followed the man in black walk into the classroom and stand behind the teacher's desk. The teacher stood up, walked right by the man, and began lecturing. How did he not notice the strange person in his classroom? The real question, really, was if anyone aside from him could see the new addition to their class. His eyes danced around the classroom, but it seemed no one else was disturbed by the figure lurking at the head of the class. Actually, quite a few were giving him strange or worried looks.

Kurt looked down into his textbook and tired to gain control of the heart that was threatening to beat its way right out of his chest. Deep breaths. He could do this. Picking up his pen, he began to take notes on the subjective mood all the while ignoring the prickling on the back of his neck. Nothing to worry about, he was just going crazy is all.

Ignoring it didn't make it better. No matter where he went or what Kurt did it seemed that the man was always there. It started off slowly like before. Kurt would see him in the dining hall, in the crowd at Wabler's performances or standing by the teacher during classes. It got worse, though, more frequent, becoming an ever existing presence in his life. He was standing behind Wes at Warbler's meetings. He was in the reflection when Kurt brushed his teeth. He was standing in the halls when Kurt walked to class. Every move he made, every step, every turn, it seemed that the stalker was there. He had dealt with terror before with Karofsky, but this was different.

This was unnatural. Every time he looked at the man, really tried to look at him it was like his features were blurred in shadow. It was almost as if for that small corner of the universe, reality had distorted itself. It made his skin crawl, lead drop into his stomach and ice shoot through his veins. It took every last effort to keep going to class, to rehearsal, to meals, to just wake up. It wasn't suppose to be here. This was Dalton.

Dalton wasn't perfect, but it was at least suppose to be _safe_.

He was losing weight again. He was pail, tired, and he had circles under his eyes the size of dinner plates. And while no one seemed to notice the dark man following him around and perpetually keeping him at the edge of terror, people noticed the changed in him. Especially Blaine. Wonderful, concerned, dapper Blaine.

"Come on, tell me what's going on with you." He said, once again walking Kurt to his dorm. Blaine was always walking Kurt to his dorm, ever since he found the boy in question standing just inside the double doors that led to the court yard. He had been shivering then, with his hand on the door, but not making the effort to actually turn the knob. He had seemed terrified then, as if he were too frightened to walk outside on his own.

"I told you, it's nothing, just stress. Don't worry about it." That had been his excuse for weeks now. The look in Kurt's eyes as he said it, though, a tinge of wildness and uncertainty, was so out of place on the boy's features. Blaine couldn't let this slide again.

"It's not nothing. Kurt, please," Blaine stopped and reached out for the other boy's hand. Kurt stopped walking and turned around to look at him with a questioning look. "I told you that I'd be here for you, so talk to me."

Kurt seemed to have be having an internal battle before wrapping his fingers around Blaine's and pulling him the rest of the way to his room. When they got there Kurt locked the door behind him and motioned for Blaine to sit down.

"You may as well make yourself comfortable." He explained as he took off his blazer and hung it on the back of his desk chair.

Blaine nodded and took a seat on Kurt's bed, waiting for the other boy to begin talking. He looked at Kurt expectantly, but the other boy just shook his head and began pacing around the room. Still, he remained patient and waited for Kurt to feel comfortable enough to let him in. "Come on Kurt, why are you so nervous?"

Kurt looked at him for a moment, as if trying to decide something, before slumping down on the bed next to the older boy. "Because I already know this isn't going to end well."

Kurt received a sympathetic smile in return for his honesty. "That's not true. Look, you don't have to tell me anything right now. How about we relax a little?"

Blaine stood to retrieve his iPod and plug it into Kurt's speakers. A slow song started to play softly and Blaine turned around to smile. He held a hand out to the younger boy who took it hesitantly. Encouraged, he pulled Kurt up to his feet and positioned his hands. The next moment, they were both slowly revolving around the middle of the room.

A gentle smile began to form on Kurt's lips as the two slowly swayed to the music. "You're ridiculous, I hope you know that."

Both boys pulled back slightly to look at each other. Their gazes locked and that attractive force started to work its magic as both boys started to lean in towards each other. It was a classic story book moment. Except it wasn't.

Centimeters from Blaine's lips Kurt froze, his eyes snapped open and he immediately pushed the other boy away, scrambling backwards towards his bed. Blaine on the other hand cursed inwardly, he looked upset, disappointed with himself more than anything.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that. I didn't mean to push you."

Kurt on the other hand was near tears. His head was between his knees and his arms were over his head. He was muttering a chant of "No, not here. No, please, no."

Blaine knelt down in front of Kurt and hesitantly placed his hand on his shoulder. The boy bolted upright again, and wild, bright eyes locked with confused brown ones. "Kurt, I'm sorry."

Kurt looked up at him confused, what did Blaine have to be sorry about? But then he remembered that he was the only one who could see it. He was the only one being tormented like this. "I think I'm going crazy."

"No, Kurt it's my fault. I know how bad Karofsky hurt you and I-"

"This isn't about Karofsky!" Kurt jumped up, practically screaming. Blaine was taken aback by the sudden movement and took a little longer to recompose himself. When he looked up into Kurt's eyes, however, they were filled with fear, and begging, pleading for him to understand.

"Then what is this about?"

"I've been seeing this man, dressed in all black. I started seeing him months ago. He would stand outside the school, outside my house, that sort of thing. The night Karofsky kissed me, right before I called you, he was outside my window. Do you remember?"

Blaine nodded, remembering the phone call. How could he forget the scared, broken boy he had spoken to?

"I thought he would go away once I came to Dalton, but he hasn't, he just got worse. He's always there. In class, at practice, around corners. He's just always there, stalking me, never leaving me alone."

Blaine looked concerned, "Kurt, maybe you should talk to the school psychiatrist. It's free, and I think she'd be able to help you work through your issues with Karofsky-"

"I told you this isn't about Karofsky!" Kurt had yelled so loud Blaine was surprised someone out in the hall hadn't heard him. "No one ever notices him, no one can see him."

"Where is he, Kurt?" Blaine asked. He tried to reach out to reign the other boy in, but he shrugged out of his grasp and pointed accusatorially at him.

"Standing right behind you."

Blaine spun around on the spot. Kurt gasped, as the other boy was now face to face with the figure that had been stalking him for months now. Their faces were mere inches from each other, almost as close as Blaine and Kurt had been just moments before. Before he had seen the figure from his nightmares just as he was living his dream.

Blaine turned back around to look at him, sadness and concern in his eyes. "Kurt, there's nothing there."

He felt his heart plummet into his gut and dropped onto his bed, curling in around himself. There it was, declared out loud for him. Kurt Hummel was going crazy.

"Look, I think you should speak to the school psychiatrist. Karofsky really hurt you, Kurt. He took away your control and made you feel unsafe where ever you went. That's a lot to go through, and you should really talk to someone about it. Keeping it all bottled up inside you like this isn't healthy."

Kurt nodded, not sure what to feel anymore. He just felt numb. His world was shattering. He was crazy, Blaine wouldn't want to be with a crazy person. He never wanted him in the first place.

"Look, you're safe here. No one is going to hurt you anymore, I promise." Blaine squeezed his hands, when did they start holding hands again? "I'm going to see about making that appointment for you, I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

Kurt nodded, too speechless to say anything anymore.

Only, Blaine didn't see him the next morning. No one did. Kurt was gone, missing from his bedroom. Kurt's parents came that afternoon, and they brought the police with them. The police had questioned everyone, including him. After all, he was the last person to see Kurt Hummel before he disappeared. It only made sense.

"Are you sure that's all that happened?" asked the detective when he had finished his story. He had told them everything, from Karofsky, to the dancing to the hallucinations Kurt had been having. Blaine nodded, that was everything. Then they asked him for his shoes.

"Why do you need my shoes?"

"The only evidence we have are muddy footprints in the victim's bedroom." The detective placed a photograph on top of the table. It was Kurt's bedroom, he knew it well, he had just been in there yesterday. Kurt's Dalton blazer still hung over the back of the chair. The footprints themselves were long and narrow, but clearly defined on the plain white carpet. By the placement of the bed and side table, Blaine could guess the where the footprints were in Kurt's bedroom.

Blaine knew because they were exactly where Kurt had said his stalker had been standing. The one that he couldn't see, despite it being right in front of him. He had been harassed, of course some sort of psychological damage had been expected. At the time, it had been so easy to call it a manifestation of Kurt's own broken mind. But now, looking at the photograph in front of him, it felt eerily real.

The photograph ingrained itself into his memory and haunted him every moment afterward. He lied awake at night thinking about it, about the being that took his friend away from him, and thinking "what if?" It was the only thing he could think about when he felt so empty inside.

Outside of his window, in a tree, stood a tall back figure.

Maybe Kurt wasn't the crazy one here.


End file.
